Draco Malfoy (One shots & Imagines)

Sweet like Cherry, Burns like Hellfire - 1 (18+)

Pairing: Mob!Draco x stripper!Reader

Summary: She lives two lives. In the morning, she's a prim, proper, almost prude book store employee. At night, she's taking her clothes off at the strip club. He's in love with her, and he watches her from a shadowy corner of the club every single night.

Warnings: not safe for work themes, Mature Language and scenes, smut, filth, mentions of alcohol, oral, reader discretion is advised.
***

He watches her.

The sway of her hips, the bejeweled bustier cupping her perfect rounded tits as she crosses the stage in her high heels like the goddess that she is.

The color red poses a risk to his stability. It's his danger color. It's also the colour of her painted lips and the lace garter belt she's chosen to wear for the night.

Nursing a glass of whisky in a shadowy corner of the club, Draco notices her every move. Every clever flip of hair, every little hand gesture and the way she bites her lip. He wants to bite it for her. Nip on it still he drains out the flavor—till her lipstick is ruined and smudged against his own lips.

But for now, whiskey will just have to do.

The haze of the alcohol is good for his rage as he silently watches the men around him like a hawk. He hates how they are undressing her with their greedy eyes. He wants to punch their noses in. He wants to give them each black eyes. But he dare not. Not if he wants to come back to this club tomorrow, the night after that and so forth and so on.

She is his precious flower and he needs to protect her.

When she's not wearing glittering corsets and fishnet tights—tantalizing men and women alike, she's working at the bookstore. Her eyes are hidden behind thick cat eye glasses, hair is up in a sleek bun and her curves are hugged by tailored pencil skirts. She is taking care of her mom, she is paying her medical bills.

She's a bookworm, she's sarcastic, intelligent, she's independent. She doesn't need anyone to take care of her.

She's sweet like cherry, she burns like hellfire, she's a femme fatale and...She probably doesn't remember him and the night they spent together one year ago.

Draco can still recall it like it happened yesterday.

~ 1 year ago~

It was a rainy—nay, stormy evening. Shop owners were closing their store fronts, flower shops were taking their baskets of flowers inside and restaurants were closing their marquees.

He'd just relieved himself from his "duties" that involved strapping a man to a chair and beating the living hell out of him till he broke and gave away precious bits of information.
Everytime Draco performed these "duties", something inside of him died and withered. Day after day, he was merely becoming an empty vessel with a shattered soul and bruised knuckles.

Rain poured violently around him and he just stood there, hoping the shower would wash away the inky blackness from his soul.

"Are you insane?!" He heard a voice call out in between the sound of the rain crashing against tin roofs. When he turned around to look for the source of the voice, he came face to face with a woman standing inside a bookstore with the door left ajar.

Tendrils coming loose from the bun she had her hair in blew with the wind. The Ironed cream coloured blouse did so little to hide the swell of her tits that he had to instantly look away.

"A storm is brewing." She said again, and he turned to glare at her. A satisfied smile pulled at his lips when she took a step back, startled. That ought to tell her to keep away from him.